by Kevin John Windorf

from “Speaking In Tongues” ©2013, 2023 All rights reserved

Tongue turned off the orangey red neon sign that burnished the word SALOON on the roof of the two-story building and locked the front door.  He ambled back behind the bar and poured a glass of amaretto over ice for Marilu, then shot a fresh spray of tonic into the pint glass he had sipped on throughout the night.  He turned off the two televisions and slid under the counter leaf and plopped down on a bar stool.

        Marilu finished wiping down the tables, turned off the overhead lights and slid onto a bar stool next to Tongue.  They sat facing each, their knees interlocked but not touching.  Marilu raised her glass, “Thanks, baby.”

        “Some night.”  Tongue clinked her glass with his.

        “You’re telling me.”

        “Full moon?”

        “I don’t think so.”

        “Holiday weekend?”  Tongue smirked, “Not that Labor Day is really that interesting.”

        “Maybe.  It was just one strange Saturday night.  The old stand-bys.  A couple of newbies.  That table of 10.”

        Tongue laughed.  “Some wild cards to boot.”

        “You’re telling me.”

        “Yeah, I am.”  Tongue winked at her.

        They sipped their drinks looking at each other like it was a staring contest.

        “How’d we do?” asked Marilu.

        “Pretty good.  Tips were up.  Think it’s the logo shirt I make you wear?”  Tongue was proud of his branding brainstorm, with its Rolling Stones-like tongue logo.  But he was only kidding.  For one thing, the logo wasn’t very visible on the t-shirt, because the shirt was too big on Marilu’s petite frame.

        Marilu teased back. “I’m sure it’s how you make me wear it.  Tight and tied like I’m some…”

        “Don’t even say it.  You know I’m not like that.  I’m a prude through and through.”

        “Oh yeah?  How’d you lose the tip of your tongue?”

        “Devilish girl tonight, aincha?”  Tongue pushed her knee.

        Marilu smiled.  “So my tips were good?”

        “Yep.  The big group was generous.”

        “I’m not surprised.  Mr. Samuels was my science teacher and Mrs. Black taught English.  I had her a couple of times.  She was my favorite.  All-time favorite.  She is wicked funny.”

        Tongue sipped his tonic.  “I kept looking over there, trying to figure out who belonged to who.  They kept changing seats.”

        “I’m pretty sure I figured it out.  You just had to watch how they bickered with each other, usually in a funny way.  The ones who were meanest to each other were the married ones.”

        “Hunh.  You think we’ll get like that.”

        Marilu looked at Tongue and said sincerely, “Only if that’s your idea of a proposal.”

        Tongue actually blushed.  After another sip, he decided to change the subject.  “So what did you learn tonight?”

        “I learned that our boy Carl is serious with his shoe store girlfriend.  I learned that Jim Helper – who’s a pig, but who’s surprised? – is going to have a rough day at work tomorrow, or whenever.”

        “Why’s that?”

        “Well, he’s the one who kept buying those women drinks and I’m sure that they’ll be hurting in the morning.  They’re either calling in sick or will be pissed off at him all day.  It’ll be fun to stop by the supermarket and see if he’s working a cash register.”

        Tongue put his glass down on the bar.  “So what’s the deal with my buddy Carl?”

        “Mr. Fever looks like he’s got a crush, and I think it’s mutual.  They look kind of sweet for each other, as they say.”

        “How so?”

        “When I called him Mr. Fever like you told me to, she lit up.  I think she liked the idea of him having a secret nickname.”

        “Yeah, all chicks dig that stuff,” Tongue said with a big smile.

        “Oh, I’m sure you’re right, Mr. Thomas T. Thomas.”

        Tongue put his index finger to his lips, kissed it, then tapped it on the tip of Marilu’s nose.

        She asked him, “So what did you learn tonight?”

        “I’m excited to say I learned how to make a Cosmopolitan.  Not sure if I’ll ever need to make one again.  Do you like them?”

        “They’re okay.  The guy drinking them, he was funny.  I want to say queer, but not in that way.  An odd duck.”

        “As opposed to an even duck?”

        “No, as opposed to an even Steven.”

        “I see.”  Tongue laughed as he thought to himself, ‘I better look that one up.  Might come in handy next time I meet a Steven.’

        Marilu slapped his knee.  “Hey, what was with the trucker at the end of the bar?  Creepy or what? On his way out, he asked me my name. When I told him, he just tipped his hat and smiled. Gave me a shiver.”

        “Yeah, I gave him some thought.  Definitely never saw him before.  Didn’t seem like he was from around here, but at the same time he seemed very comfortable.  Did you see him scribbling in his little notebook?”

        “Was that what he was doing?”

        “Yeah, but I have no idea what he was writing down.  Pretty intense guy.  I made a point of not offering him too many refills.  He must have sat there four hours, nursing four whiskeys.  And you know what?”

        “What?”

        “Never went to the bathroom.”  Tongue gave her an exaggerated look of shock.

        “No way.”

        “Well I didn’t see him go.”

        Marilu laughed, “Do you think he was wearing one of those trucker’s friends?”

        “God, I hope not.”

        “Wait a minute.  He did go.  Just as the big table was heading out, he ducked into the men’s room carrying his duffel bag.  What was with the bag?  Why didn’t he leave it in his car or truck or whatever?”

        “Must have been valuable.”

        “A duffel?”  Marilu was incredulous.

        “I mean whatever was inside.  Like a gold bar.”

        “Gold bar.  You think?”  Now she was just sarcastic.

        “Well, the way he carried it, it was heavy.”

        “And a little long.  Like a telescope.”

        “That’s it!”  Tongue poked her knee.  “He was a trucker astronomer.  And he was writing down everyone’s signs.”

        “That would make him an astrologer not an astronomer.”

        “That too.”

        Marilu smiled at Tongue and took a mouthful of Amaretto.  “What else did you learn?”

        “The Reillys spent a month in Europe, don’t ask where.  I’m sure it was everywhere.”

        “I’d like to go to Europe someday.”

        Tongue sat up tall on his bar stool.  “Well, play your cards right young lady and maybe one day your dream will come true.”

        “Not on tips from high school teachers,” groaned Marilu.

        “You mean, like ‘Study hard and stay in school.’”

        Marilu ignored the joke.  “Did you see that kid Colin Hunter?  He’s going off to graduate school.”

        “Good for him.  Kid deserves every break he can get.  It’s one thing to grow up without a dad, but to know your father was gunned down while your mother’s pregnant with you.  Wasn’t even a robbery.  Just a thrill kill.  That’s what the police said.  That’s tough.”

        Marilu sipped her drink.  “Tougher for his mother, don’t you think?  I’ll never understand why she stayed around.”

        “Home.  It’s all about home.”

        “What do you mean?” asked Marilu.

        “It’s where people want to be.”  Tongue reached over and put his hand on Marilu’s knee.  “Gasoline Peggy and her husband picked Babel to be the home for their new family.  For their future.  For the rest of their lives.  She never left because this was where their home was going to be.  She stayed because she stayed true to their decision.”  He leaned back again.  “I’m sure it was hard to do, and that’s why it’s the greatest example of love I’ve ever heard of.”

        Marilu looked at Tongue, seeing yet another deeper side to him.  She thought, ‘I do like this man.’  She finished her drink, and slid off the bar stool to stand between Tongue’s knees.  She put her arms up around his neck.  “Can I show you another example?”  Not waiting for a reply, she leaned up and kissed him, her open mouth sharing the sweet almond taste of her drink.

        After a few moments, their faces parted and they looked longingly into each other’s eyes.

        Finally, Marilu spoke up.  “So.  Learn anything else tonight, Mr. Tongue?”

        “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I did.  I learned what your mother’s favorite song is.”

        Marilu laughed.  “Yeah, I snuck it onto the jukebox when I came in today. ‘Meant To Be’ by Mary Fahl. I love it too, you know.” She started to sing it to Tongue in a whispery voice.

“Life is hard

Sometimes it leaves you scarred

Too many lonely hours in the night

When all your faith is gone

If you can just hold on

You may get one more chance to make it right.”

        Tongue whispered in response, “That’s not the part that caught my attention. I think it ends something like: ‘I still believe in love and there must be a God above because he brought me you.’” He leaned forward and kissed Marilu. When he pulled away, he admitted, “It’s a pretty song, but I didn’t take you as a sucker for such a simple melody.”

        “Oh, don’t be so naïve.  The melody is catchy and all, but it’s the lyrics.  It’s always about the lyrics.  It’s always about what people say to each other.  You just have to listen.”